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Note: Old-story syndrome is not the exclusive domain of those old enough to say "It must have been twenty years ago." If you are too young to use the phrase, look for other telltale signs. "Remember that summer at camp . . ." "Remember when we were sophomores . . ." "Remember that time we got so blitzed . . . " Heard those words come out of your mouth lately? If so, you too suffer from old-story syndrome. It might be wise at this point to define what stories are -- or rather to clarify what stories are not. A step-by-step description of your last medical procedure? Not a story. A play-by-play recreation of any major league sporting event? Not a story. A turn-by-turn description of the route you took to get around a traffic jam on Route 55? Not a story. Stories cannot include the words cholesterol, mutual fund, or Hillary (unless you recently passed the body of Edmund Hillary on your way up Mount Everest.) Good stories cannot include the words barf, blackout or root canal. Incidentally, your stories cannot begin with 'According to Regis . . .' or 'Oprah says . . .' Those are not your stories; those are other people's stories. I used to think stories could only happen far way in exotic places under exotic circumstances with exotic people. And, don't get me wrong, they can. But stories can happen everyday . . . in your town . . . in your neighborhood . . . but not usually in your own house. (Although I'd be happy to tell you in excruciating detail the story of my recent encounter with a coyote in my backyard.) So first of all, if you want to create some stories, you are going to have to go out. That's why I recommend story-building as a summer activity. There is a lot happening in Cape May and surrounding communities. Take a look at the events page on this website. There's no reason to sit home. The weather's good. The schedule is crowded. The town is full. Okay, I know if you live in town that last point might not seem like a big plus. But let's be honest. A lot of our best stories are full of strangers. And strangers seldom come to the door and knock (except one time the guy from the cable company . . . but that event happened twenty years ago so, according to my own rules, I can't use the story anymore.) I feel confident saying that you will have to leave the house to meet strangers. Now I'm not telling you to hop on a Harely with a guy sporting a skull and crossbones tattoo and a roach clip. (Although a little conversation couldn't hurt -- as long as those conversations are conducted in a public place with no illegal substances involved. ) What I am saying is: a little openness to new contacts can lead to interesting experiences and interesting experiences yield interesting stories. If you are visiting Cape May from another locale, you really can't help but meet strangers. If you live in town, you can avoid them -- but at your own peril. Another year could pass and you could still be telling those same old stories. Take advantage of what is around you. Local communities have all sorts of social events during the summer. Go to those in your own town. Drop by those in other towns. Welcome drop-ins in your own town. Talk to people you don't know. Ask them questions. Find out about their interests. Learn new things. I don't know where these efforts will lead. But if you don't try, you'll never know. If you live in Cape May, think about some of the activities you ignore because you think of those things are for tourists only. If visitors have fun, why can't you? The sunset may look beautiful from your deck. Enjoy that view on many, most, summer evenings. But wouldn't it be nice to see it from a different angle -- both literally and figuratively. Drive out to Sunset Beach. See why other people come to Cape May Point for the sunset. While you're out and about, why not go out on the town and remind yourself why people come to Cape May at all? Okay, I know you're going to say that you don't want to be bothered looking for a parking space. Complain all you want but if you let the parking situation keep you home, you're on your own. Don't blame me if your friends nod off during your next recitation of a twenty-year-old story. To develop new stories, you have to be open to new experiences. You don't have to take up sky-diving, or bungie jumping or picking up menacing looking hitchhikers. Just try something different. Talk to a stranger. Go in the water. Stay up late. Get up early. Catch your own dinner. Try a new restaurant. Eat a new dish. If you drive everywhere, try walking. If you walk regularly, take a different route. If you commute from Philadelphia or New York, stop somewhere between home and the shore. Now none of these steps are guaranteed to provide you with a new story, but they might. Trying new things becomes a habit. I'd like to quote Dante or Sartre here but I'm going to talk about the sitcom Friends. If you're one of the few inhabitants of the planet who have never seen the show, it features a group of friends now in their thirties. In one episode, two of the friends are expecting a visit from a college chum. In preparation, two of the friends, Ross and Chandler, get their passports and foreign currency ready. It seems that the last time the college chum visited, they all ended up on a fishing boat headed for Canada. Not all of us have the potential -- or desire -- for that kind of adventure. But admit it, it would have made a good story. I have accepted that stories in my future might be somewhat more tame than the stories in my past. But the important thing is that there will be stories in my future. What will happen if you try any of the things I mentioned? I can't predict. That's what makes a good story. Something unexpected happens. As we head into summer make a resolution that by September you will have at least one new story to add to your repertoire. One is the minimum. There is no maximum. But don't get hung up on quantitative measures. Relax. Have fun. And tell us about it in the fall. |
What to Do on Your Summer Vacation: Get Some New Stories The other day, a ninety-year old family member was regaling me with her stories. The stories were interesting but to tell you the truth they were a little old -- which is excusable at ninety. Maybe even at eighty. But given the way aging plays these days if you're seventy or younger, and all your stories start with the words, "It must have been, oh, twenty years ago," I think you should consider getting some new stories. |
